


Here's the Long and the Short of It

by Jeanie205



Category: Veronica Mars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Rom-com fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-10 12:13:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4391447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jeanie205/pseuds/Jeanie205
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Logan and Veronica got together junior year, what if the situation was a lot less like an angst-fest and a whole lot more like a rom-com?  Less noir, more fluff.  Takes place after Russkie Business.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here's the Long and the Short of It

 

It was just genetics. Veronica knew that. Not some universal master plan to make her life difficult, or some karmic retribution to atone for imagined sins. Just...DNA.

Keith Mars was a great dad in every way, a far better parent than the mother who had abandoned them both more than a year ago when things got tough. So she probably should cut him some slack, since it definitely wasn't his fault that he was kind of...well...short. And had passed that trait along to his only daughter.

She knew her dad came by his height limitations honestly.

Veronica had been only four years old when Nana Mars had died, and every adult looks big to a four-year-old. But subsequent perusal of old family photos had told a different story. Nana had not just been small, she'd been tiny. So tiny that Veronica supposed she herself was lucky to have surpassed the five foot mark. Nana definitely hadn't made it that far.

She and Keith had compensated for being vertically challenged in the usual ways. The car seats were set to accommodate their shorter legs and the steering wheel adjusted for their deficiency in reach. At home, innumerable stools and mini-ladders were stuffed into their already inadequate storage space. And while Veronica had teased him about it for weeks afterwards, she eventually came to appreciate the long-handled "grabber" that Keith had purchased on impulse one day from the Home Shopping Network.

But she didn't have that long-handled thingamajig in school, and right now she really could have used it. That asshole Dick Casablancas had happened by just after she opened her locker. He'd grabbed her math book out of her hand and tossed it on top of the lockers, where it slid along the smooth metal surface until it banged against the wall.

Totally out of Veronica's reach.

 _"Douche_ ," Veronica muttered in annoyance as she watched the idiot surfer skip down the hallway, cackling as he went. She supposed she couldn't consider this latest prank as destructive or as humiliating as some of the others that Dick had indulged in at her expense over the past year, but right now it was seriously screwing with her day. She needed that book for first period, and she knew that no amount of stretching would put it within her reach.

Veronica was just about to start searching for a way to channel Spiderman when a hand suddenly reached over her head, snatched the book from it's perch, and tossed it down to her. She looked up into a familiar pair of brown eyes.

"Logan," she said, and she knew her face must have reflected her surprise.

"You should try to keep better track of your stuff, Mars," he said, looking down at her with his trademark smirk, before slapping his palm on the top of the metal locker in that pointless way that boys had of banging things just to make a lot of noise.

Veronica huffed in annoyance and narrowed her eyes, but her look of irritation was wasted, because Logan had already taken off down the corridor.

And she was late. Veronica clutched her rescued math text and scurried off to Mr. Heinrich's classroom, settling into her seat just as the bell rang.

By the time Mr. Heinrich had embarked upon his fifth explanation on graphing quadratic equations for the benefit of the mathematically challenged (which did _not_ include Veronica Mars), Veronica's mind had wandered just about as far from algebra as it could get. Until it landed, as it often did these days (much to her dismay) on the strange and inexplicable behavior of Logan Echolls.

Ever since she'd investigated his mother's disappearance, things had been...unsettled between them. Veronica didn't like it. Didn't know what to do about it.

The deep friendship they'd had while romantic partners to the Kane siblings had gone bust more than a year earlier after Lilly's death. It had been a bitter pill for Veronica to swallow, first losing Duncan to indifference, and then trying to deal with the horror of Lilly's murder. But the final blow had come from Logan, who had heaped blame upon Veronica for grievances both real and imagined. He'd turned on her with a vengeance, wreaking havoc on her life as only Logan could. Because Logan Echolls didn't give a fuck about consequences.

But she'd dealt with it. Learned from it. Drawn on reserves of character she hadn't known she possessed. And she'd become...comfortable with it. Used to the idea that Logan was no longer a friend, that he'd go out of his way to mess with her. So she'd learned to mess with him first. And better.

That bong in his locker had been genius, she thought, smiling now as Mr. Heinrich's voice droned on in the background. So he'd gotten a little...angry. Smashed the headlights on her car. Talked a lot of smack. She'd known it was all bullshit. Logan would never actually hurt her, despite what Wallace had thought.

Veronica liked Wallace a lot. She was happy and grateful to have made such a great new friend. But Wallace, she knew, would never be able to understand about Logan and her. About their history, the years of close friendship, the mutual devastation when Lilly was killed. About how, even after all this time, even after everything that had gone down, she wished she could have her friend back...

_Shit! She should not be thinking that way._

But lately? It was damned hard not to. Because lately? There'd been some kind of...thaw between them.

Veronica thought maybe it had started at Lilly's memorial when she'd helped Logan with the video tribute. There'd been scenes on that video that only they had witnessed first-hand. They'd known her better than anyone, and as they looked at Lilly's carefree face, for the first time it seemed like they were remembering the Lilly that was full of life, instead of focusing so utterly on her tragic death.

After that day, there'd still been jibes and insults, and dramatic displays of mutual antipathy, but a lot of it had lost its bite. A lot of it had lost its point. A lot of it had become just...habit. Inertia. Just the way things worked. She knew it and he knew it, but they never talked about it.

Then Logan had asked her to look into Lynn Echolls's disappearance, and although that investigation had _not_ ended happily, Veronica had thought for about a millisecond that there was a chance she might get her friend back.

She sighed, remembering. Because it hadn't worked out that way. Logan had pulled back, as though she'd somehow offended him all over again. But then...something would happen. He'd help her out when she least expected it, like at the lockers that morning...

Veronica was roused from her musings by a snicker that swept across the classroom.

"Veronica? Miss Mars?"

Veronica's head snapped up when she realized with a start that Mr. Heinrich must have been trying to get her attention for a while.

"Uh, yeah?" she said, her brow furrowed in confusion. She was sure she looked and sounded every bit like the articulate Stanford graduate she hoped to be some day.

 _"Whatsa matter, Veronica? Daydreamin' about doin' the swim team?"_ came a voice from the other side of the room, and the class erupted in laughter.

Mr. Heinrich sent a quelling glance in the direction of the anonymous speaker before turning his attention back to Veronica.

"Are you considering participating in class today, Miss Mars?" he asked with just a touch of asperity.

"Uh, yup," she said. "What do you need?"

Mr. Heinrich smiled sardonically. "I need a lot of things," he said tiredly, "but what I'd be happy to have right this minute, and what no one else here has as yet been able to provide, is the correct answer to the problem on the board. Of course, since you haven't been giving us your full attention..."

He smirked and shrugged, perversely pleased to have at last caught out the cocky Veronica Mars.

Veronica squinted up at the board, and then down at the paper on her desk.

"Uh...x is 4 and y is 7," she said matter-of-factly.

Mr. Heinrich blinked. "That's...right," he said disbelievingly.

The rest of the class groaned.

 _"Hey, thanks for screwin' up the curve again,"_ came the same anonymous voice from across the room.

Veronica was saved from a further unwelcome stint in the spotlight by the ringing of the bell.

xxxxxxxxxxx

It wasn't until third-period English class that Veronica was forced to once again consider the enigma that was Logan Echolls.

Mrs. Murphy liked to think of her classroom as a place that fostered 'free expression', and she didn't believe in assigned seating. Veronica shuddered as she entered the room at the last minute and saw that the only available seat was at the very back of the room, right next to Logan.

She glanced at him briefly as she slid into the empty seat, but his eyes were focused on a point directly ahead. If it were anyone else, she'd think that maybe he was reading the project suggestions listed on the blackboard, or paying close attention to Mrs. Murphy. But this was Logan, and Veronica knew better.

She settled in to listen to Mrs. Murphy's lecture, but soon found her mind wandering. Last year, the teacher had been obsessed with the Romantic Poets. This year, it was Shakespeare. They'd started with the sonnets and had worked their way through the history plays and then the tragedies until they were now, as they approached the end of the school year, focusing on the comedies.

As they had shifted from _As You Like It_ to _The Taming of the Shrew_ and _Twelfth Night_ , Veronica had come to the conclusion that if he hadn't actually invented them, Shakespeare had certainly used every rom-com trope she'd ever encountered. Misunderstandings. Mistaken Identity. Even the old 'bet you can't win that girl over' was apparently not invented by the writer of She's All That, but by the bard himself.

(If he'd been alive today, she mused, Will could have made a very good living writing movies for the Hallmark Channel.)

Now they were reading _Much Ado About Nothing_ , and that one grated on Veronica's psyche more than any of the others. Because the one trope that truly infuriated her was the 'enemies to lovers' routine. _Come on,_ she'd thought so many times. _After all the crap they've given each other, Beatrice and Benedick are just gonna fall into each others' arms? When hell freezes over! When pigs fly! When..._

"So what did I do now?" Logan asked pointedly, glaring at her.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Veronica responded tartly.

"You're staring," he said. "Now, if you were anyone else, I'd just figure you couldn't keep your eyes off me. But since it's you, I know I've either pissed you off or I've got something on my face. Care to tell me which it is?"

"I was not _staring_ at you," Veronica hissed, hoping like hell that she was telling the truth. _Had she been staring at him?_

"My head was just...just...turned in that direction," she stammered.

"Well, turn it the other way!"

Veronica huffed as she faced the front of the classroom, but it wasn't ten seconds later that she realized that _Logan_ had gotten the last word. Temporarily.

"What the hell is wrong with you, anyway, Logan?" she muttered.

Logan's head spun back toward her. "I'm pretty sure it's been firmly established that there's _nothing_ wrong with me," he said. "I am a perfect specimen..."

"Oh, for crying out loud," Veronica said, her voice becoming more agitated. "Right now, you're being a perfect specimen of a jackass, but I thought you'd given up that pose in favor of acting like a real human being."

Veronica paused, knowing she should probably just leave well enough alone, but her frustration with Logan's erratic behavior lately spurred her on, and she couldn't seem to stop herself.

"This morning, for instance, when you helped me with my book..."

"Oh, will you give it a rest!" Logan hissed uncomfortably out of the side of his mouth. "That was just an aberration...a...a...mistake. I...forgot for a minute..."

"You _forgot_?" Her tone was incredulous as Veronica turned completely in her seat, fully facing him, her body angled into her verbal attack. " _Forgot_ that you were supposed to be a jerk to me? _Forgot_ for just one second that it was your mission in life to make _my_ life as miserable as possible?"

Veronica huffed in disgust and she forgot, too. Forgot where she was. Forgot there were other people listening. Forgot to keep her armor on and her attitude indifferent.

"And did you also _forget_ that we worked together for weeks without any of this kind of crap between us? I know it didn't turn out well, and I'm sorry, but I thought we'd at least gone back to being civil to one another..."

Logan's face was suddenly suffused in red, but whether from anger or embarrassment Veronica couldn't tell.

"Well, you sure didn't forget how to stick your nose into other people's business, did you, Mars?" he said, the words practically spitting out of his mouth.

Veronica was incensed. He had _asked_ for her help. _Begged_ her to 'stick her nose' into his business. She jumped out of her chair as she prepared to remind him of that fact.

"That is so unjust..." she began, her voice rising in anger. Veronica worked hard to maintain her mask of cold disdain, but at that moment it slipped away as if it had never existed.

 _"Unjust?"_ Logan repeated, leaping out of his own chair to face her down. "You want to know what's unjust? Having to put up with _you_ getting all up in my face! Or maybe," he said, smirking down at her, "in your case, it would be getting all up in my _collar_. Too bad, Mars, that you'd need a few more inches to actually make it to my _face_!"

And that was it! Veronica's small stature had always been a hot-button issue with her, and Logan knew it. The gloves were off now, and Veronica prepared to abandon all semblance of civility. She opened her mouth to let Logan Echolls have the razor-sharp side of her tongue.

But it was not to be.

"Miss Mars! Mr. Echolls!"

Two heads snapped toward the front of the classroom with such synchronicity that only the perpetually clueless students of Neptune High School could have failed to note it.

 _"What?!"_ Both barked out as one.

Mrs. Murphy, while not the most brilliant teacher in the school, was nevertheless far more astute than most of her students, so the irony was not lost on her. A small smile began to play around her mouth as the glimmer of an idea came to her quite suddenly.

"Detention," she said abruptly. "You both have detention. Report to me here after school."

"Here?" Logan said, his brow furrowed. Detention was always served in the same room, and it was not this one. He ought to know; he'd been there often enough.

Veronica just looked bewildered.

"Here," Mrs. Murphy confirmed. "And unless you want a few more days tacked on, I suggest you take your seats and try to contain yourselves for another," she glanced at the clock, "thirteen minutes."

As they sat, Veronica and Logan eyed each other warily, and Veronica felt the hot sting of embarrassment. She couldn't believe they'd gotten so carried away in the middle of English class.

xxxxxxxxxx

Mrs. Murphy beamed at them.

Veronica was surprised to see such an amiable expression on her teacher's face, considering that she and Logan had just reported for detention.

"So I've written this little...playlet," Mrs. Murphy began, "called _Beatrice and Benedick Redux_.

She could have sworn that the woman actually tittered.

"Uh...that's interesting," Veronica said, curious as to what this might have to do with her. With them. " _Redux_ , huh? You don't think that might sound a little...ummm..."

 _"Pretentious?"_ Logan had no trouble finishing Veronica's sentence, since he was not hampered by the desire to be in any way tactful.

"No, I do not," the author huffed, and they watched her chest expand in indignation. " _I_ think it gives it a real modern _vibe_."

The last word rolled off her tongue, and Mrs. Murphy appeared to swoon with joy at just how 'with it' she was.

Logan narrowed his eyes and turned toward Veronica, muttering under his breath, "Vibe? I'd bet the only _vibe_ Mrs. Murphy comes into contact with on a regular basis is pink, plastic, and probably not anatomically correct."

"Logan, shh," Veronica whispered, trying to keep the laughter from bubbling out of her.

"So...does this have something to do with our detention?" Veronica asked quickly. Perhaps they were going to be tasked with making copies of the...playlet...or mailing it off to publishers, or something else equally mundane.

Could teachers use detention to get students to help them with personal projects, she wondered. Veronica sighed, deciding that in Neptune, anything was possible.

"How clever of you, Veronica," Mrs. Murphy said, nodding her head. "That's just why you're here. You see, it's a two-character playlet - I've pared it down to the bone - and you and Logan are going to perform it."

The teacher continued to smile at them as Veronica saw the look of horror overtake Logan's features. She was sure that her expression mirrored his.

They both began to protest.

"I don't participate in the family business," Logan said tightly, "so thanks, but no thanks."

"No time," Veronica added, with a wave of her hand. "No time to do anything like a play. Sorry."

"Oh," Mrs. Murphy said, pulling out her ace in the hole. "I don't think I made myself clear. If you perform this little play of mine - and really, it's only a few pages long - that would count as your final project for the class."

"Wait," Logan said, suddenly seeing the request in a different, more advantageous, light. "If we do this, we don't have to write the research paper?"

"That's correct," she said, nodding.

Veronica glanced over at Logan, calculating all the extra time she'd have for her honors biology project, not to mention her history paper, if she didn't have to write the English paper as well. But Logan hated the very idea of acting, she knew. Despised his father and everything to do with him, and from what Veronica had recently learned about Logan's home life, she was fully in agreement. So she was surprised when he turned to her speculatively.

"How tough could it be?" he shrugged dismissively. "And...no paper."

Veronica's mouth dropped open in surprise, but she nodded slowly.

"Okay," she said. "I guess we could do this as our project."

Mrs. Murphy's eyes lit up at her success, and she reached into a folder to extract two copies of the play.

"Can I just ask one question?" Veronica said. "Why us? Why are you asking Logan and me to do this?"

A knowing look passed over the older woman's face. "You two just seem to have the right...um..."

 _"Vibe?"_ Logan filled in the blank with narrowed eyes.

"Why, yes, Mr. Echolls," she said, smirking at him, "I believe you understand very well."

xxxxxxxx

Logan didn't know what had possessed him to offer up the Echolls pool house as a rehearsal spot, but he knew he didn't want to be caught doing this anywhere at school. And Veronica's apartment was small and cramped. Besides, if he was going to be forced to spend time with Veronica Mars, he wanted it to at least be on his own turf.

Things had gotten a little...uncomfortable between Veronica and him lately. Not like before, not like when he'd stupidly blamed her for the botched investigation into Lilly's death. Logan cringed when he remembered everything he'd done to Veronica, everything he'd said about Veronica, during that year. Everything he'd let other people say, even though he knew that none of it was true.

But, dammit! He'd been angry and for a while it seemed like Veronica had betrayed him. It was stupid, he knew that now, stupid to blame her for things that weren't her fault. Especially when he knew deep down that when push came to shove, Veronica would probably have his back.

That was why he'd turned to her when his mother's car had been found on the bridge. He trusted her, knew she'd be the only one who could figure out what really went down that day. And, god! He'd been so sure. But he'd been wrong. He knew he had to accept that his mother had decided that there was no way out and had jumped off that bridge. But it had been hard. Damn hard.

Logan sighed and shuffled over to the mini-fridge. He extracted one of the beers that his dad always kept there, popping off the top as he settled himself onto the couch to wait for Veronica. He took a long pull from the bottle.

He'd begun to feel close to Veronica again during the weeks that they'd worked together on his mother's case. And when he'd finally learned the truth...

Logan's face reddened in solitary embarrassment, remembering how Veronica had been there for him. How he'd broken down and cried in her arms. Those skinny arms that had felt so good wrapped around him. Had brought him such comfort.

But at the same time...he'd broken down and cried in Veronica Mars's arms! If he hadn't been humiliated by his lack of control that day, if he'd thought that maybe it was okay because he and Veronica were starting to be friends again, he'd learned differently at the school dance.

Granted, he'd gotten completely wasted holding his own private wake for his mom, fueled by the stash in the back of her closet. And then shown up pantsless to the dance. He didn't remember much from that night, but he did remember that Veronica had been there with a guy, an older guy he'd never heard of. Leo something.

And that had bothered the hell out of him.

That's when Logan understood that it wasn't friendship he was looking to rekindle with Veronica Mars, but something else entirely. And that when he remembered the feel of her arms around him that night at the Sunset Regent, it wasn't just the comfort he recalled, but the softness of her body, the scent of her hair, and how fucking beautiful she'd looked in that black dress.

But Logan wasn't up for any more pain, and if Veronica had a boyfriend, he'd just learn to keep his distance. Trouble was, even from a distance he could no longer stand to witness all the little hurts that his friends now routinely inflicted upon her. All the taunts and the practical jokes. He wanted to protect her, but it was impossible. So he did what he could, like retrieving her book after Casablancas had lobbed it out of her reach.

Logan had more than once caught Veronica looking at him in confusion, like she couldn't quite figure out what was going on in his head. But the other day in English class was the first time he'd called her on it. And look where that had gotten him.

He gulped down the rest of his beer as he heard the knock on the pool house door.

"Logan?" Veronica called, stepping into the room.

"Over here," he said, making his way back to the fridge to grab another brew. "You want anything?"

"No," she said. "Um...how are we going to rehearse if you're drunk?"

Logan grinned. "I'm not drunk, Veronica," he said. "And besides, you have no idea how many actors are thoroughly shit-faced when they step onto the stage."

"Ugh!" she said. "I don't want to know. Ignorance is bliss."

"Wow! I never thought I'd hear that from Veronica Mars," Logan said. "I thought you always made it your business to know everything about everyone."

"Not always," she said, looking at him oddly.

He stood there, awkwardly clutching his beer. "So how do you wanna do this?" he asked.

"Well, maybe we could just, I dunno, sit on the couch and read the whole thing first. So...I was wondering..." Veronica reddened slightly before she asked him, "have you read through the entire play?"

Logan shrugged. "Nope," he said, "just the first few pages. I thought maybe we could just learn it little by little, almost like it was really happening."

"Like it was really happening," Veronica said, her look of confusion evident. "Uh, you do remember what happens with the original Beatrice and Benedick, right, Logan?"

 _Shit_ , Logan thought, _of course he remembered_. They'd just finished reading the damn play. But how bad could it be? This was updated _Shakespeare_ , for Christ's sake! There'd be the modern version of a lot of _doths_ and _prithees_ and then it would be over. And he could go back to his plan of keeping Veronica Mars at arm's length.

"Let's just start in," he said finally. "I'm looking forward to getting to some of these primo insults. I wish I'd thought of them myself. Hey, maybe we can use them on each other when this is over. Liven things up a little."

"Ha, ha! Very funny," she said, rolling her eyes. "But I do have to admit that Mrs. Murphy is a lot cleverer than I'd thought. Listen to this one,"

Veronica opened to a page not far from the beginning and began to recite dramatically.

" _'Your birth certificate is an apology from the condom factory_.' Ooh! That's pretty harsh," she said.

"Or how about this," Logan added." _'If you're going to be two-faced, at least make one of them pretty_.'"

"I could have used that line a few times myself," he added, as Veronica giggled.

They spent the next few hours mastering the first few pages of the script before deciding that they'd done enough and calling it a night.

"Uh...same time tomorrow," Logan asked, with as much diffidence as he could muster.

"Sure,I guess," Veronica agreed, looking surprised.

And so it continued over the next couple of weeks, except on those nights when Veronica was working on a case for her dad. They even worked on Saturday night, and Logan couldn't figure out how Veronica was able to find time to see her _boyfriend_. But she never explained, and he certainly never asked.

Both of them despised their character names.

 _"Caspian?"_ Logan had said that first night. "You have _got_ to be shitting me."

"Well, it's not any worse than _Calliope_ ," Veronica countered, her tongue hanging out of her mouth in distaste.

The following day, they took their objections to Mrs. Murphy, hoping she might consider giving her characters names that were somewhat less absurd. She looked at them doubtfully, but extracted a sheet of paper from her desk drawer.

"These were my potential alternatives," she said, beginning to toss out pairs of discarded names. "Drusilla and Domnall. Fermina and Farley. Morgella and Murfred..."

"Wait, wait, wait!" Logan exclaimed, holding up his hand. "What's with all the alliteration?"

Mrs. Murphy squinted at him as though he were daft. "Well," she said, as though no further explanation were needed, "Beatrice and Benedick..."

"Then why not just use...Beatrice and Benedick?" Veronica suggested reasonably.

Mrs. Murphy's mouth pursed and her brow wrinkled.

"Really, Veronica," she said tartly. "I can't just _steal_ those names from... _The_ _Bard_." The last two words were drawn out reverently, as though "The Bard" were a synonym for "The One True God." Veronica was at a loss for words.

Veronica and Logan turned to each other, their faces reflecting amused resignation.

"So...I'm thinking I'm okay with Caspian," he said briskly.

'"Yup," she agreed, nodding. "Calliope is growing on me, too."

They knew when to beat a hasty retreat.

From then on, 'Get it done and get it over with' became their mutual mantra.

xxxxxxxx

While they always managed to get at least a few pages down pat each night, as the rehearsals progressed, Logan began to realize that they were devoting nearly as much time to other activities as they were to the stupid playlet. One night they found themselves arguing over movie quotes, and pretty soon they were watching _Casablanca_. Purely to "settle the disagreement," of course.

After that, there were other movies, and a few video game competitions, and one memorable night they even baked cookies. In no time at all, Logan found himself spending almost every evening having fun with Veronica Mars. For the moment, he refused to think about what that meant, or how he'd feel when they'd finished their performance and there were no more "rehearsals."

Each night, as soon as Veronica entered the pool house, she'd ask if he'd read the whole play. He'd avoided it for as long as he could, but towards the end of the second week of rehearsals, as they were nearing the finish line, Logan figured he might just as well bite the bullet and read the damn thing to the very end.

And that's when he found it.

Oh, it wasn't the very _last_ bit of business. Nope, there were a few other lines before the _'Fin'_ that Mrs. Murphy had inscribed across the bottom of the last page with misplaced grandiosity. But it was there. Definitely there. No two ways about it.

 _A kiss._ There was a kiss at the end of the play. And not just any old kiss. Logan had kissed dozens of girls, and he was pretty sure he could have handled one little onstage kiss. But this kiss...

Logan's faced flushed as he read the stage directions.

_"Calliope kisses Caspian tentatively on the corner of his mouth, then pulls away with a slight shake of her head, as though she feels like a fool for trusting in these new feelings. Before she can take more than a step, though, Caspian pulls her back into his arms, embracing her firmly, and kisses her with all the passion he has been hiding from her. Calliope wraps her arms around his neck and returns the kiss with equal fervor. What follows is a kiss so romantic that it will leave the audience swooning."_

_WHAT?!_

The first thing that seeped into Logan's brain was how absolutely squicky it was that his middle-aged English teacher could even imagine that kiss, let alone describe it in such detail. He shuddered involuntarily.

And the second thing was... _holy shit!_ _He couldn't kiss Veronica Mars like that!_ Maybe he could fake it with somebody else, if he just closed his eyes and told himself to get it done. But Veronica? _Never_.

Before Logan had a chance to mull over the situation any further, Veronica arrived, and she seemed so agitated when she came through the door that for the moment he put aside all thought of engaging her in a conversation about The Kiss.

"What's going on?" he asked, bewildered, as he watched her open her computer and place it on the coffee table.

"Hah!" Veronica said with a sneer. "Remember how we thought Mrs. Murphy was so clever with all those great putdowns? Well, looks like she wasn't so brilliant after all, because I found every single one of them on the internet."

"What!" Logan's face registered his shock. "Show me."

Veronica whipped her laptop around so that he could see the screen, which was opened to a site called "Best Ever Putdowns." She pointed to the very first one and read it aloud. _"Your birth certificate is an apology from the condom factory."_

"Son of a bitch!" Logan exclaimed as he scanned down the page to discover the source of Mrs. Murphy's "cleverness."

"Yep," Veronica said, switching to a second site she'd bookmarked. "And it's the same with all that flowery bullshit, too. How to Pay a Romantic Compliment, this site's called."

"How did you find this?" he asked. "Did your decoder ring start flashing or something, Nancy Drew?"

Logan's question was accompanied by a smirk, but his tone held absolutely no bite.

Veronica shrugged. "They just seemed a little too ingenious for Mrs. Murphy, so I decided to do some research. And... _voila_!"

She gave a little huff, her lip curling in disgust. "She didn't want to 'steal' the names Beatrice and Benedick from _The_ _Bard_ ," Veronica's voice dropped an octave, mimicking her teacher's reverent tones. "Like you could really _steal_ names. But she doesn't seem to mind passing off tired internet jokes as her own original work. Somehow I don't think she'd be real happy if we tried that with our writing assignments."

Veronica's disdain could not have been more pronounced.

"So...how can we make this work for us?" Logan asked, determined to find a way to turn this discovery to their advantage. "Can we get out of doing this stupid play?"

Veronica looked thoughtful, finally giving her head a small shake. "Well...it's not like she's tried to publish the thing. Or even claimed she'd dreamed them all up. Besides, if we _don't_ do the play, then we'll just have to write the paper. So I don't really see how this helps us..."

"I do," Logan said suddenly, not quite looking at Veronica. "I...um...I finally finished reading the play today," he continued, noting the slight flush on Veronica's cheek. "I bet we can at least get Murphy to back off on the, uh, kiss."

"You think?" She eyed him uncertainly.

"Let's just see what she has to say about it," he said. This had better work, he thought, because there was no way in hell he was _ever_ kissing Veronica like...that.

xxxxxxxx

To ensure that sufficient progress was being made, Mrs. Murphy had met with her "cast" every few days, and a meeting was scheduled for the Monday afternoon following their discovery of the "borrowed" lines. Only this time she'd requested their presence in the auditorium, rather than her classroom. When they arrived in that cavernous space, they found their teacher on the stage muttering to herself.

"There you are, finally," she said, glancing up at them. "Come over here so I can figure out how to do the blocking..."

 _"What the hell?"_ Logan said immediately, as they joined her near the front of the stage. "We're only performing this for our own class. So why do we need the auditorium?"

"Language, Mr. Echolls," Mrs. Murphy said automatically, her brow quirked in chastisement. "And, uh, about the performance, well, I just happened to mention my little endeavor to one or two of my colleagues, and they were so intrigued by the idea that they simply _insisted_ that they'd like their classes to see it, too. And how could I deny them? So our audience has now expanded to include all third period English classes."

The woman could barely contain her excitement.

"Oh, god," Veronica looked appalled. She'd had a tough year, a very tough year. She'd been pranked, insulted, vilified, and had had the air let out of her tires more times than she could count. But her tone and her expression said that all that was nothing compared to the awkwardness of having to perform _that_ play with _this_ boy in front of all _those_ people.

"Everything but the kiss," Logan said abruptly. "We'll do it, but we're leaving out the kiss."

"Oh, no," Mrs. Murphy responded immediately, shaking her head. "No, no, no. Without the kiss, the story makes no sense, it has no meaning. The kiss is the climax of the drama."

Did she have to use the word _climax_ , Logan wondered, his mind going to places it never, ever should with Veronica standing right next to him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her face turning red.

"The kiss has to go," Veronica seconded Logan, her stance becoming rigid as she folded her arms across her body.

"But... _why_?" Mrs. Murphy seemed truly perplexed, and Logan thought she must be the most clueless person he'd ever met, and that was saying something, considering the amount of time he'd spent with Dick Casablancas.

"It doesn't matter why," he said. "But we're going to take it out...unless you want it to become known to your _colleagues_ that you plagiarized every single clever line in that manuscript."

There was a sudden silence.

"What do you mean?" She tried to bluff, but he could see by the way she refused to meet his eyes that La Murphy knew exactly what he was talking about.

"Look," Veronica said flatly, "we found the websites with the putdowns and the flattery, so there's no point in your wasting time trying to deny it. But that information doesn't have to leave this room. Everything stays the same. We do the play, all your buddies are impressed, and our class projects are complete. With a suitably generous grade, of course," she added with a smirk.

Veronica slapped her hands together in a manner that conveyed "done and dusted."

"We just take out the kiss," she added blithely, and her expression said that this was a minor point, an afterthought, hardly worth mentioning.

Mrs. Murphy stared at them in dismay, as though she couldn't believe that two of her students were engaged in a spot of blackmail. And that she herself was their mark.

"But the audience will _demand_ that kiss, they will _insist_ on it," she tried. "Who writes a love story without a kiss at the end?"

"Well, Shakespeare, for one," Veronica began but was immediately interrupted.

"Oh, who's kidding whom?" Mrs. Murphy snarled. "This isn't a Shakespeare update, it's a modern rom-com. I just stole his plot and lifted a few lines from the internet. I've been working on that thing for years, and now it's going to be performed, and dammit, I want that kiss. I _need_ that kiss!"

Logan's jaw dropped. He'd never seen Mrs. Murphy so much as flustered before, and he was about call her out on _her_ language when she spoke again.

"Or...we can just call the entire thing off," she continued cannily. "If you can't deal with that _one little kiss_. But then, of course, I'd expect those research papers on my desk by the end of this week."

It was clear that Mrs. Murphy thought that would settle the matter, but Logan wasn't so sure. He began to feel uneasy as he looked over at Veronica, and when he saw her mulish expression and the set of her jaw, he was afraid she was about to back out of the whole thing. And dammit! He didn't want to have to write the paper at this late date. He'd counted on _not_ having to write it.

And then it suddenly came to him, and it was brilliant in its simplicity.

"Wait," he said to Veronica before she could open her mouth. "I think I might have a solution to our problem."

Logan turned toward the teacher with his most charming smile.

"You insist on having a kiss, so what if we say we'll agree..."

"Logan!" Veronica hissed, her eyes widening in protest.

"Hang on, Veronica," he said, turning toward her reassuringly. "I'm not done yet."

"What if we agree to _a_ kiss," he continued, bathing Mrs. Murphy in his practiced grin, "just not _that_ kiss. Not the one you describe in your, er, stage directions. After all, we're just a couple of high school kids. What the heck do we know about, uh, grand passion?"

Veronica's eyes narrowed as she contemplated a Logan Echolls who denied knowing anything about passion.

Logan shrugged. "It can just be a regular, garden variety sort of kiss, the perfect ending to your, um, clever little story. The audience gets the big moment," Logan's hands described a wide arc. "We," he motioned back and forth between Veronica and himself, "get our term projects completed. And you," here he stopped to make a little bow, "get your moment in the sun."

Logan's smile became positively self-congratulatory. "It's a win...win...win."

For a moment there was silence, while the other two chewed on his proposal.

"And what would this 'regular, garden variety kiss' look like?" Mrs. Murphy asked suspiciously.

"Well, of course that's something Veronica and I will have to...uh...work out," he said quickly, ignoring the doubtful expression on Veronica's face.

"Hmmm." The teacher seemed to consider. "Okay," she said finally. "Let's run through the entire script up to the point of the kiss and I'll...see what you've got. Then I'll decide."

Logan sighed in relief. Veronica hadn't bailed yet, and it looked like Murphy was going to go for it.

They'd spent plenty of time learning their lines, reveling in the silliness of both the insults and the over-the-top flattery, so the rehearsal went smoothly and their teacher seemed pleased enough.

"Now go ahead, Logan," she said when they reached the critical juncture. "Show me this 'regular' kiss of yours."

This was the part that Logan hadn't exactly thought through. He'd kissed plenty of girls, but usually they weren't just standing there in front of him, as though daring him to move any closer. And most of the time, the tops of their heads reached higher than his collarbone.

Logan looked down at Veronica apprehensively, wondering how to bring her closer without actually grabbing onto her. For her part, Veronica remained stock still, arms folded across her body, not moving her head one inch nearer to his. There must be a way, he thought, rubbing the back of his neck in agitation. _Why the hell couldn't he figure out how to kiss her?_

As a last resort, he bent his knees, trying desperately to close the distance between their lips. He thought he saw a gleam in Veronica's eyes as she looked up at him, but if so, it was gone in an instant. And she still wasn't moving.

"Mr. Echolls." Mrs. Murphy's voice boomed, and he jumped back up, nearly losing his balance. "What on Earth are you doing?" she demanded. "You look like you're getting ready to do the limbo. That looks like no kiss I've ever seen or, uh, participated in."

(For just a moment, Logan was taken aback, contemplating for the first time the probable existence of a _Mr_. Murphy.)

"I've kind of got a problem here," he said finally. "She's like a foot shorter than me."

"Don't exaggerate, Logan," Veronica corrected indignantly. "It's only eleven inches."

"And how do you generally resolve such disparity in height?" Mrs. Murphy asked with a sigh. " _Offstage_ , that is."

"Um, by sitting." Logan gave her the polite answer. The one that didn't involve a bed.

"Well, there won't be any handy chairs on this set," Mrs. Murphy said drily. "But perhaps I do know of something that might assist you," she added thoughtfully, before disappearing backstage.

"Maybe she's got a medieval rack back there," Veronica conjectured with a smirk. "Gonna stretch me out a little."

"I'm figuring she's going for the stilts." Logan's grin was wide. "Master those and you can have a backup plan as a circus performer in case the detecting thing doesn't work out."

"Oh, very funny," she said, rolling her eyes.

Mrs. Murphy reappeared a moment later with a small wheeled cart that looked like a cross between a child's wagon and a hand truck.

"Here, try this," she said, urging Veronica to step onto the cart and thus add several inches to her height.

Veronica hesitated, eyeing the wagon suspiciously, as though wondering just how sturdy and stable it could be. Mrs. Murphy didn't help matters when she explained that it had been made for the drama club by the Neptune High shop class.

"How could we use something like this?" Veronica finally asked doubtfully. "Are you going to adjust the plot to say that Calliope rides around on a cart?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Veronica," Mrs. Murphy bit out impatiently. "These things are used in the theater all the time. We'll just hide it behind some scenery or something," she added, with a dismissive wave of her hand.

The door at the back of the auditorium opened just then and a girl stuck her head in, peering down inquisitively at the semi-darkened stage. Logan's lip curled in distaste when recognized the student.

"Mrs. Murphy, I've been waiting quite a while to talk to you about the pep squad car wash and I really have other things to do," the girl said, not bothering to conceal her annoyance.

The teacher sighed and her eyes closed as she tried to summon up a tiny shred of the professional patience that had long since deserted her.

"Yes, Madison, I know you have many important things to do," she said drily. "I'll be right there."

The door whooshed shut as Madison Sinclair stepped back into the hallway.

"She'll just come back if I don't have this conversation with her," Mrs. Murphy sighed as she made her way up the aisle toward the back of the auditorium. She glanced back just as she opened the door into the corridor.

"Mr. Echolls," she said, "while I'm gone, please try to come up with something workable if you expect our arrangement to stand."

Logan might have imagined that the atmosphere would be somewhat less awkward after the teacher's departure, but in actuality, it was quite the opposite. He shuffled from one foot to the other, his usual air of cool sophistication beginning to desert him completely.

"Uh...do you want to try using the cart, Veronica?" he asked tentatively, fidgeting with his sleeves. _Who the fuck knew a stupid stage kiss could have him shitting in his pants?_

"I...guess," she said, stepping hesitantly onto the little wagon.

Logan's arm began to lift automatically to assist her, but then he thought better of it. It seemed like she didn't want him to touch her, so he figured maybe he should concentrate on finding a way to kiss Veronica without coming into contact with any other part of her body. He scratched his head, wondering if that would even be possible.

It was true that the cart added several inches to Veronica's height, but Logan couldn't see how that was going to help if she still wasn't going to move at all. He had bent at the waist, thinking that he might _just_ be able to reach her now without becoming a contortionist, when Veronica suddenly shifted her weight. The quick movement propelled the wheels on the cart ever so slightly, but it was just enough for Veronica to lose her balance.

It took only a split second. Logan saw her arms flail as Veronica recognized her precarious position and tried to regain her equilibrium. But the movement not only failed to stabilize her, it gave further momentum to the tiny wheels at the bottom of the cart, which began to roll rapidly across the highly polished floor. Veronica reached out blindly, instinctively grabbing the nearest object for support. Which, most unfortunately, was Logan's arm.

He saw it before it happened, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. Veronica's balance deserted her completely as the cart slipped out from under her, and she flew sideways, still clutching onto Logan. He weighed twice as much as she did, but that made no difference, as momentum, gravity, and his utter surprise had him tumbling onto the floor after her.

At the last instant, Logan managed to twist his body so that she fell on top of him, rather than the reverse, and they landed noisily, in a heap of tangled arms and legs. They lay there for a moment, too shocked and winded to do anything at all. But it wasn't long before Logan realized that he was flat on his back and that Veronica was spread-eagled on top of him, her face - her mouth - mere inches from his own. Logan's breath began to come in short little pants, but he wasn't certain whether his irregular breathing was caused by the fall or by the fact that he could feel every part of Veronica Mars's small sexy body as she lay flush against him.

For the space of several heartbeats, they simply stared at one another in confusion. Then the door at the back of the auditorium flew open, and Mrs. Murphy sprinted down the aisle, Madison Sinclair close on her heels. That intrusion seemed to galvanize them into action, and their mouths began to move.

"This is not what it looks like!" both exclaimed at once, that remarkable synchronicity making a comeback appearance.

The teacher stopped at the bottom of the aisle and studied the situation.

"Well, what it looks like," Mrs. Murphy said, her brows raised and her mouth curled into a smirk, "is that Veronica lost her balance and you both took a tumble and got your arms and legs all tangled up. And that you're having trouble untangling them. Of course," she added thoughtfully, "if that's _not_ what happened..."

"Oh, no, that's _exactly_ what happened," Veronica said quickly, Logan nodding in agreement.

Half hidden behind Mrs. Murphy, Madison couldn't resist adding her unwelcome two cents' worth.

"Who knows what really happened here?" she shrugged. "With Veronica Mars, anything is possible. I wonder what everyone else will think," she added slyly, tapping her phone in satisfaction.

Mrs. Murphy closed her eyes and shook her head, quite used to Madison's brand of speculation.

"Are you two all right?" the teacher asked, as they began to disentangle their limbs.

When she saw them nod and carefully pick themselves up off the floor, Mrs. Murphy made a decision. "We can continue with this tomorrow, but you'd better come up with something quickly," she added pointedly, "because you'll be performing the play this Friday."

"Let's get back to the pep squad now, Madison," she turned to the other girl tiredly. "I've had a long day."

And Logan and Veronica were once again alone.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Logan asked, feeling like it was the stupidest question ever.

Veronica shrugged. "Nothing a hot bath won't cure," she said, and then they both flushed hotly, Logan unable to erase the picture of a naked Veronica in her bath that suddenly flooded his brain, and Veronica easily able to read his expressive face.

Not another word was exchanged as they made their way out to the parking lot.

xxxxxxxxxx

By the time he left for school the next morning, Logan was exhausted. He'd gotten very little sleep the night before, as his mind wrestled with what seemed like insurmountable problems.

He had spent half the night trying to forget how it felt to have Veronica plastered against him. And when he wasn't struggling with his traitorous body, his mind was working on figuring out a way to kiss Veronica without giving himself away.

Logan had known for weeks that the renewal of his friendship with Veronica had become muddled, that he'd never be able to settle for being 'just friends'. So he'd been keeping his distance in the hopes that the attraction would somehow dissipate. But when the damn play had forced them into each others' company, he hadn't been able to resist the opportunity to spend all that time with her.

And that had just made it ten times worse. Every hour they were together had made him even more certain that he and Veronica could have something really great together. And had fueled his frustration that he was never going to be able to make it happen.

Because...well... _boyfriend_. He'd been pretty wasted at that dance, but he'd still seen how she was with Leo. He'd seen the way the guy looked at Veronica, and Logan knew she deserved someone like that. Someone who hadn't interrupted years of friendship to make her life a living hell.

And now there was this damned kiss, a new complication that he really didn't need.

Logan sighed as he pulled into his favorite parking spot, and he hadn't been out of his car for thirty seconds when his ears were assaulted by a shout from Dick Casablancas.

"Hey, Logan, _Dude_ , what the fuck you been up to with Ronnie?" his surfing buddy bellowed with a wide grin.

"What the hell are you talking about, Dick?" he said, scowling. _How the fuck could anyone know how he felt about Veronica?_

"Well if you'd answer your damn phone once in a while..." Dick boomed, and Logan quickly pulled the phone out of his pocket. He'd ignored all calls the night before while he wrestled with his problems.

"Hey, you don't need the phone any more," Dick chuckled as they entered the building and made their way to the junior lockers. Logan stopped short, his jaw dropping in shock. Plastered on every locker was a surprisingly clear eight-by-ten photo of Veronica and him tangled in each others' arms. He could see that the picture had been cleverly cropped, so there was no way to tell exactly where it had been taken or what was happening.

And there was a caption. _Of course there was._

_"Skank makes desperate move. Don't bother, Veronica."_

_Fuck! How the hell did anyone even get this picture?_ And then Logan remembered Madison, and her carefully manicured fingernail tapping against her phone.

"Shit!" he said, turning to Dick. "Do you know if Veronica's seen this?"

"Dude! There was one of these stuck to every locker in this hall, and the only thing I see left on her locker is a small piece of tape. So I'd say, yeah, she's seen it," Dick said with a grin. "What the hell were you doing getting it on with her, anyway, bro? She might be desperate, but you know you can get..."

Dick Casablancas never got to finish that sentence, because he suddenly found himself pushed up against a wall of lockers, with a forearm to his windpipe that was seriously interfering with his supply of oxygen.

"Shut the fuck up, Dick!" Logan said, and there was a certain menace in his expression that told Dick that he wasn't kidding around.

"Okay, okay! Can you just chill and tell me what's going on?" Dick asked when he was finally able to breathe again.

"None of your business," Logan said. "I just really need to find Veronica."

He turned his head in every direction, as though expecting her to be lurking about in the hall, but of course she was nowhere to be seen. The bell rang then and he knew he'd have to put off his hunt for a while. He'd see her third period in English, anyway, and they could talk then.

Logan was almost out of his mind with anxiety by the time he stepped into Mrs. Murphy's class, but Veronica wasn't there. He wondered only fleetingly if she'd ditch English just to avoid seeing him, because of _course_ she would, and probably find a way to clear it with the office, too.

Logan's frustration had reached a boiling point by the time he cornered Madison Sinclair in the hallway after third period. He grabbed her arm and pulled her into a deserted alcove.

"What the hell did you think you were doing with that picture, Madison?" Logan spat out angrily.

Madison shrugged, but he could see the self-satisfied gleam in her eye.

"I sent that picture to a lot of people, Logan," she said slyly. "How do I know who might have decided to turn it into a poster? It could have been anyone."

"But it wasn't anyone, was it?" he said, more certain than ever. "It was you. And the thing is, _you_ knew exactly what happened because you were right there when we explained."

Madison sniffed. "I didn't hear any explanations," she said dismissively. "All I heard was Mrs. Murphy giving you an out for your obviously, uh, lecherous activities."

"Our _lecherous_ activities?" Logan snorted, shaking his head in disgust. "You know, if I were you, I'd spend less time worrying about our activities and more time worrying about Veronica's payback. Because I'm pretty sure you'll never see it coming."

Logan smiled at the sudden uncertainty in her face as he left her there and hurried to his next class.

It was lunch period before he finally located Veronica near the entrance to the courtyard. The hallway was nearly deserted as the last of the students rushed past them on their way to lunch.

"Veronica," he said, grabbing her arm and swinging her around to face him. "Where have you been all morning?"

Veronica looked up at him, and as expected, there was fury in her eyes.

"I'm sorry about the picture," he said immediately.

" _You're_ sorry?" she said. "Why? Did _you_ do it?"

" _What_? No, of course not. It was Madison Sinclair. Why would you think it was me?"

"Why would I think it was _you_? Well, I seem to remember a prank or two. Maybe a few nasty names?"

"Shit! I thought we'd gotten past that, Veronica. That we both decided we weren't doing that stuff anymore."

Veronica sighed. "I thought so, too," she said. "And I suppose I knew it was probably Madison. But when Leo called this morning and said someone had emailed _him_ the picture, I wasn't so sure. I mean, how many people even know about Leo?"

A stab of jealousy hit Logan suddenly, and he was furious with himself. Of course, she was worried about what Leo would think.

"I'll go over after school and explain it all to Leo," he said, his voice tight. "We can both go. I'm sure it'll be okay."

Veronica looked up at him in confusion. "Why would you do that?" she asked. "I already explained it to him. And why should he care, anyway? He was just wondering what it was all about."

Now it was Logan's turn to be confused.

"He wouldn't care that there's a picture out there that looks like his girlfriend is lying in some other guy's arms? And that the picture is all over the school? Well, he's a hell of a lot more understanding than I'd be if I was your boyfriend."

Veronica's mouth dropped open. "Leo is not my boyfriend," she said distinctly. "We went out a couple of times, but then I knew..."

She stopped suddenly, her face closing up.

"Never mind. Not that it's any of your business but Leo is not my boyfriend," she repeated, turning again toward the courtyard.

"What! Veronica, wait! Why didn't you tell me that Leo wasn't your boyfriend? Don't friends tell each other stuff like that?"

All this time he'd been torturing himself for _nothing_?

She whirled on him, growing more and more frustrated as she spoke. "Oh, so now we're friends, are we? It's like being with a yo-yo, Logan. Up, down, up, down. First we're friends, then you decide you hate me. Then I think maybe we're becoming friends again, but suddenly you'll hardly talk to me. Then we get involved in this play, and we're actually having _fun_ together, but then...".

"Yeah," he said. "Then what?"

"Nothing," she said dismissively, stopping abruptly. Then just as quickly changed her mind, and now her tone was accusing.

"Why did you get all weird about...about the kiss, Logan? Yeah, it's maybe a little embarrassing, but is it such a big deal? If we were really friends? I couldn't believe you actually resorted to blackmail to try to get out of it."

A smile began to tug at the corner of Logan's mouth as it all of a sudden occurred to him that just maybe he'd gotten everything completely and utterly wrong.

But what he said was, "I thought you agreed with me on that."

"Only because it seemed like you'd rather be tied to an anthill than actually have to kiss me!"

Logan could hardly keep the smile off his face now, so he was caught unawares when Veronica turned suddenly, rapidly heading once again toward the courtyard.

"Dammit, Veronica, wait!" he complained. "We haven't finished this conversation."

" _I'm_ done," she said, throwing it over her shoulder as she stepped through the doorway, Logan hot on her heels.

And suddenly, he had finally, absolutely, _had it_. It was a crazy, stupid situation, and he wasn't letting it continue for one second longer.

"Veronica Mars!" Logan said, pitching his voice so that it could be heard above the general chaos and hubbub that filled the Neptune High courtyard at lunchtime.

He was so loud, in fact, that he caught not only Veronica's attention, but also that of every other student who was lucky enough to be eating lunch at that moment. Because, _what the hell_ , here were Logan Echolls and Veronica Mars. Everyone had seen the posters that were plastered all over the school that morning, and now it looked like there was about to be an Act Two. And they had front-row seats.

The area quieted abruptly as they all held a collective breath.

Veronica had reached her table, but she groaned and turned when she heard Logan call her name.

"Logan," she bit out through clenched teeth. "Can't whatever this is wait until later? When we don't have an audience?"

"It could," he said, shaking his head and walking steadily towards her, "but I really think it's waited long enough. You know, you're right. We aren't friends. In fact, I don't know if we ever _could_ be friends."

Logan saw Veronica's eyes narrow as she geared up for battle, and he knew he'd better get on with it.

"Yeah, well I guess you'll have to find someone more worthy of the great Logan Echolls..." she began snarkily, but he interrupted her before she could continue.

"I stupidly thought you had a boyfriend," he said hurriedly. "But it turns out I was wrong. So, no, I _don't_ want to be friends, Veronica, but if the position of boyfriend is still open, that's the one I'm applying for."

One or two gasps could be heard in the stillness of the courtyard as the onlookers waited to see what would happen next.

Veronica looked perplexed. "I...I don't understand, Logan," she said looking up at him.

"Yes, you do," he smiled down at her. "You understand everything. Nothing ever gets past you, because you're the smartest person I know. And the funniest. Definitely the most beautiful. And you've got more grit than anyone I've ever met. In fact, the only thing that's really wrong with you, Veronica Mars, is that you're too damned short."

And with that, Logan picked Veronica up by her waist and set her down on the edge of the lunch table.

"That's much better," he said, still smiling.

"Better?" Veronica said, her voice just a little uncertain now.

"Definitely," Logan said.

Without another word, he pulled her into his arms, embracing her firmly, and kissed her with all the passion he'd been hiding from her for so long. She hesitated for only an instant, and then Veronica wrapped her arms around his neck, and returned the kiss with equal fervor. Those who witnessed it - and who may have participated in the catcalls and the whistles and the applause which ensued - pronounced it swoon-worthy. Some even said it was the most romantic kiss they'd ever seen.

xxxxxxxxxx

Three days later, the performance of _Beatrice and Benedick Redux_ went off without a hitch. To her everlasting annoyance, Mrs. Murphy was not actually present for "The Hot Kiss in the Courtyard," as it came to be known, although she maintained she was not in the least surprised when she heard about it. She tried to get Veronica and Logan to do a repeat performance for the play, but they refused. Instead they substituted a bland little peck, but everyone in the audience swooned anyway.

"So you see, Mrs. Murphy," Logan said afterwards, after it was all over and they'd received their A-pluses, "it wasn't necessary for art to imitate life quite so precisely for the play to be a hit."

"Perhaps you're right," the teacher said, nodding. Then she added with a knowing smile. "But I think _you'll_ have to agree that this performance was really more a case of life imitating art."

Logan smirked and Veronica blushed, but they were hardly in a position to disagree.


End file.
